Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  She thrust the fearful thought away. He’d said the child was only an excuse to keep her here. He’d asked her to stay.

  Angela squared her shoulders and picked up her hairbrush. She was tired of being a timid little mouse. A man like Matt Colton deserved better than a mouse for a wife. He deserved a woman. She was determined to be that woman. She didn’t want a pretend marriage, she wanted a real one, with Matt. Since she was the one who’d put a stop to it, it was up to her to set things right between them.

  She brushed her hair vigorously until it hung in loose, shining waves to her hips. Her skin smelled like roses, the scent of her bath soap. The delicate fragrance hung in the air as she waited eagerly, nervously, for Matt to come. She hadn’t realized—mercy! The gown was so thin she could see right through it!

  Maybe she should change into something a little less revealing. A little less blatantly inviting.

  No. If she wore this gown for him, it would speak for her. She wouldn’t have to tell him in words what she wanted; the gown would say it all.

  She looked up quickly as the door opened and Matt came in. Her cheeks were hot from the realization of her own boldness. Matt’s sharp intake of breath and the sudden heated glow in his eyes caused a fluttering in her stomach.

  With slow, deliberate movements, Matt closed the door, his gaze devouring the vision of loveliness across the room. The bolt shooting home into the lock echoed the pounding in his veins. He clenched his fists so his shaking wouldn’t be obvious.

  Her skin glowed golden in the lamplight, and he could make out the rosy tips of her breasts through the sheerness of the gown. His heated gaze roamed lower, to the dark golden triangle where her thighs met. Her hair fell down her back and over one shoulder in a soft cloud of sunstreaked blond. Daisies and moonbeams. It had been so long since he’d seen her hair loose. For one brief instant, he was struck with fear.

  My God, she’s so beautiful. She’s too beautiful. She can’t really be mine.

  Then he saw the look in her eyes. His heart soared. Everything about her, her eyes, her shy, hesitant smile, her new wispy, see–through nightgown, all said welcome.

  “Angel.”

  Neither of them was sure he actually spoke, but she felt him call her. They met each other in the middle of the bearskin rug, which now lay on the hardwood floor instead of on a straw bed in a wickiup. A sudden, shivering weakness overcame Angela. But when his arms came around her, she echoed his deep sigh of satisfaction. She felt so safe, so cared for. This was home to her, in his arms.

  Their lips met, softly at first, until the urgency built and their starving senses begged for more. Nothing was denied, nothing held back.

  Angela trembled with the power of her emotions. His fevered lips, his searching hands, his big, hard body pressed against her, were all so achingly familiar, yet new…wondrous. It had been so long. So long. Fueled by weeks of loneliness and pain and denial, her passion soared to new heights. She groaned deep in her throat when his tongue plunged between her lips.

  Matt groaned too, and clutched her even tighter. Like a man too long in the desert, he drank of her, taking all she offered, and giving everything he had in return.

  After an eternity, he released her lips and spread heated kisses across her cheeks, her eyes, along her jaw to her ear. “It’s a beautiful gown,” he whispered.

  “You like it?” she asked, her voice husky with passion.

  “Uh huh.”

  “I bought it for you.”

  He nibbled his way along her jaw to her other ear and whispered, “Does that mean I can do what I want with it?”

  “I…suppose so.”

  He grinned against her neck. “Good. Let’s see how it looks on the floor.” With trembling fingers, he slipped the thin straps from her shoulders and brushed the gown down past her hips. It fell in a pool of shimmering white around her feet. Matt took a step back and drank in the sight of her from head to toe and back again.

  His hot gaze took her breath away. She swayed toward him. He scooped her up in his arms and laid her gently on the bed. Before joining her he shed his own clothes in record time, his boots hitting the floor with a solid thump, thump.

  When he was beside her on the bed, there were no slow, languid kisses, no soft laughter or sweet sighs. There was only fire and passion, a fierce, urgent need, an overpowering hunger. His hands and lips were everywhere at once.

  “Christ, Angel, I’ve missed you.”

  His hand found the center of her desire as his lips and teeth tugged on a rigid nipple. Angela squirmed and whimpered beneath him, his hot, wet mouth and questing fingers driving her insane. She was ready. Oh God, she was so ready for him. “Love me, Matt,” she begged. “Love me!”

  Matt groaned and trailed scorching kisses from her breast to her ear as he parted her thighs with his knee. His voice was harsh with ragged breath. “I do, Angel, I do.”

  He entered her then, and there was no more need for words. There was only this terrible, urgent need for fulfillment, and that need was satisfied to the utmost a moment later. Angela dug her nails into Matt’s shoulders and cried out as release washed over her and bright colored lights flashed behind her closed eyelids. A few seconds later Matt’s shoulders tensed, his head flew back, and he cried out her name as he followed her over the edge.

  It was much later before either could breathe properly, much less speak. Matt rolled to his side and curled himself around Angela.

  “Was I too rough, Angel?”

  Angela opened her eyes slowly. She couldn’t keep the grin from spreading across her face. “No.”

  Matt’s gaze followed his fingers as they drew lazy patterns on her stomach. “Our child grows here.” He flattened his palm and spread his fingers as if to protect the babe in its warm nest. “How do you feel about that?”

  “I feel a thousand different things,” she said softly, her eyes luminous in the glow of the lantern.

  “Like what?”

  “I feel blessed that such a miracle should occur just because we loved each other. I feel like it was meant to happen, that this was why I was born. I feel eager to hold our child in my arms.”

  Matt was humbled by her soft–spoken reply and the emotions she stirred in him.

  The next morning the entire household knew something was different. When Matt and Angela finally came from their room, well past breakfast, they couldn’t keep their eyes, or their hands, from each other. Pace and Spence rolled their eyes in disgust. Serena and Jessica giggled. Daniella and Travis smiled and breathed sighs of relief that whatever was wrong seemed to now be right.

  The days passed swiftly, but not half as fast as the nights, when Matt and Angela lay wrapped in each other’s arms. Christmas came in a hurry, and the house was filled with sounds of laughter and shouts of joy as they all opened their presents beneath the pine tree Travis and Matt had brought down from the mountains the week before.

  Matt’s present to Angela brought tears to her eyes. It was a solid gold wedding band, and it took her completely by surprise. “Oh, Matt, it’s beautiful!”

  “You sound surprised. Did you think I wouldn’t get my own wife a wedding ring?”

  “I just never…well, I guess I never thought much about it at all.”

  Matt took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. Their eyes locked. Hers were brimming with unshed tears. Their lips met in a sweet, tender kiss that lingered, regardless of the watching audience.

  “There they go again,” Spence said with disgust. “Kissin’ and makin’ cow eyes. Yuk.”

  Laughter broke Matt and Angela apart. Matt put his hand on Spence’s head and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Just wait till you’re older, kid, and you’ll see how much fun it is.”

  “Wait till I’m older,” the boy muttered. “That’s what everybody says about everything.”

  Matt’s eyes returned to Angela, and they communicated silently. “We have an announcement to make,” he said a moment later.

  Travis a
nd Daniella exchanged curious looks, then waited for Matt to continue.

  Grinning from ear to ear, Matt announced, “Angela’s expecting.”

  All eyes turned instantly to Angela. She blushed and laughed.

  “Well, congratulations!” Dani and Travis cried at the same time.

  “What’s espettin?” Jessica demanded.

  “You know,” Spence explained. “Like Sheba.”

  “You mean Angela’s gonna have puppies?”

  “No, dummy.”

  “Pace,” Daniella scolded. “Don’t call your sister a dummy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The new year was a week old when the entire family, except Jason, set out for Tucson. Baggage had been shipped ahead, traveling clothes were crammed into carpet bags, and a bench had been added to the wagon bed for extra seating space. Matt rode horseback beside the wagon to ease the crowded conditions, and Angela held little Jessica in her lap. Travis and Daniella, with Serena, Pace, Spence, and Jessica, were headed for Boston at last.

  Angela hugged Jessica to her, realizing she was going to miss the little imp. She was going to miss them all. She’d been with this family, day and night, for over three months now, and there wasn’t one of them she didn’t love with all her heart. It would be impossible not to love them.

  Jessica laid her head against Angela’s breast, and Angela wondered what it would be like to cradle her own child to that breast, to feed it, nurture it, raise it.

  The bumpy, uncomfortable ride took over two hours, then there was a mad scramble to make sure no bags were left behind. When the stage driver announced it was time to leave, a dozen hugs and kisses and good wishes were exchanged, then the family piled into the coach. There was only room for one more passenger, but no one else showed up, so the Coltons had the stage to themselves, at least until the next stop.

  Abe Miller pushed himself away from the bar when he saw the wagon full of Coltons come down the street and stop at the stage station. He passed through the swinging doors and leaned against the post that supported the saloon’s overhanging roof. He had to squint until his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, but that didn’t keep him from recognizing Angela right away.

  The man on horseback was a younger version of the man driving the wagon. From what he’d been able to learn from gossip, that would be Matt Colton, Angela’s husband.

  Husband. He’d still like to know just how that came about. He’d heard what the young officer had reported at Camp Bowie after General Howard’s meeting with Cochise, but he wasn’t buying it. There’d been no gossip on the wagon train that Miss Angela Barnes was on her way to meet her fiancé, and he was sure there would have been if it were the truth. Just what was the little bitch up to? Had she found herself a rich sucker?

  Colton was reportedly rich enough for three or four wives, but no one in town even hinted that he was a sucker. Folks didn’t like to talk much about the Coltons at all. It had taken him weeks to get what little information he had, and that wasn’t much.

  But he did know where the Triple C Ranch was. He’d been out there last week to scout the place out. It was a sizeable spread. Miller couldn’t see why anyone would want to tie himself to land like this.

  Now Tennessee, that was different. It was green, there was plenty of water, and it was home. Abe might have stayed on the family farm the rest of his life and been content. Would have, probably. Except when neighbors drive up and see a son choking his pa to death…well, that’s the time for that particular son to hightail his ass outta Tennessee.

  ‘Course Pa had deserved choking, no doubt about it. Abe would have done it years ago, but Ma wouldn’t hear of any of her boys raising a hand to their pa. Even if the old bastard did knock her and the boys around a lot—half the time just for pure meanness.

  Abe figured maybe he could have gritted his teeth and stuck it out till the old man killed himself with his infernal drinking. But Pa had hit Ma too hard that last time. Knocked her down. She’d hit her head on a rock and broke her neck.

  So Pa’s neck was what Abe had grabbed. And he hadn’t let go till his two brothers, Ben and Caleb, and three neighbor men had pulled him off. By then it didn’t matter. Pa was dead, like he should have been years ago.

  When Abe heard one of the neighbors talking about going for the county sheriff, he’d lit out and ended up in Memphis.

  Memphis. Where Miss Busybody had poked her nose out that damn alley window and seen what she shouldn’t have seen.

  She’d admitted she’d told her old man about that night, but Abe had taken care of him. Now it was time to make sure she didn’t tell anyone else. Ever.

  ‘Sides all that, he told himself as he tugged the glove on his useless hand, she owes me, by God.

  He stepped away from the post he’d been leaning on, crossed over to a side street, went around the block and came up the alley next to the stage depot. Everyone had boarded the stage except for the man who must be Travis Colton, Matt Colton’s father. He and his son were having a last word with each other, and those on the stage couldn’t see Miller where he stood. That uppity bitch, Angela, was a mere three feet from him, with her back to the alley.

  With his one good hand, he massaged the dead souvenir she’d given him.

  If he wanted, he could reach out and grab her, pull her into the alley, and slit her throat before anyone even missed her. It was tempting, and he actually took a step in her direction before he realized it was too easy. She wouldn’t even know who had her, or why, and he wouldn’t get to take his revenge.

  He had to stick to the plan, that was all. Then everything would work out. He’d have her, he’d have his revenge, and then he could kill her whenever he wanted.

  Miller did reach out and grab Angela, but it was only to pull her back against the corner of the building. If her husband looked at her, he’d think she was just leaning there waiting for him.

  Angela was so surprised when she felt the hand on her arm that she didn’t even cry out. She was dragged two steps backward, then her shoulder was shoved up against the building.

  “Don’t make a sound or I’ll start shooting into that there stage full of brats.”

  The blood left Angela’s face when she heard that voice. She’d forgotten that Miller would likely be in town. She tried to step away, but he had a grip on the back of her dress. Unless she wanted to leave some of it behind, she had to remain where she was.

  “That’s a good girl,” Miller sneered. “Just stand there and act natural. If that man of yours comes over here before I’ve had my say, I’ll kill him.”

  “What do you want?” she hissed.

  “Tonight at midnight, you meet me in that big fancy barn of yours, and we’ll have us a little talk.”

  “You’re crazy. I won’t do it.”

  “You’ll do it, missy, or I’ll set fire to every building on that ranch, including the house, and I’ll stand back in the dark and shoot everybody who runs outside.”

  Angela gasped with outrage, then shuddered with terror. She remembered this man well. He would do as he threatened. Her throat thickened with fear. “What do you want with me?”

  “I just want to talk to you, that’s all. You’ll find out what about tonight.”

  Angela felt him turn loose of her dress. A moment later she dared a glance over her shoulder, but the alley was empty. He was already gone.

  What should she do? If she told Matt, he’d go to the barn himself tonight. He could be killed.

  No. She wouldn’t tell Matt. Miller said he just wanted to talk, so she would just slip out and meet him. They would talk, she would find out what he wanted, and that would be that.

  But she was scared. Miller wasn’t the kind of man a person could trust. What could he possibly want to talk to her about?

  Her knees shook as she pushed herself away from the corner of the depot and pasted a wavering smile on her face.

  Chapter Thirty

  “You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Matt said over suppe
r. “Is something wrong?”

  “N-no, of course not. I…guess I’m just tired, after the trip to town and all.”

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I feel fine. Like I said, I’m just a little tired.” Angela had been doing her best to act normal since the stage pulled out this afternoon, but apparently she’d failed.

  She just couldn’t get over the feeling that she was about to do something wrong…something dishonest. But that was ridiculous. She was just going to walk out to the barn tonight at midnight for a few minutes, then she’d come right back to the house. There couldn’t be anything dishonest in trying to keep Matt from being hurt, could there?

  For the most part, any fear Angela had felt at the prospect of meeting with Miller tonight had fled. If anything went wrong, all she had to do was scream, and Hans would hear her. Miller couldn’t know that Hans slept in the barn. So she felt relatively safe from harm, but a nagging sense of guilt about not telling Matt still plagued her.

  Her mind went around in this same circle again and again. She knew she should say something to Matt, but she was afraid he would get hurt. His safety was a thousand times more important than her peace of mind. She wouldn’t tell him.

  Moonlight streamed in through the bedroom window as Angela lay wide-eyed, listening to Matt’s deep, even breathing. She smiled in the darkness and caressed his arm that rested across her ribs. It was no wonder he was asleep. After coming back from town, he’d worked with the horses the rest of the day, coming in late in the evening, hot, dirty, sweaty. He claimed he was so tired all he wanted to do was eat and go to bed. But once they were together behind the closed bedroom door, sleep was not what he had in mind. She had no idea where he found the energy for the hours of lovemaking that followed, but she was thrilled.

  Their lovemaking was still just as special as it had been that night the treaty was signed, that first night they’d come together willingly. Every time they made love now, it was just as exciting, just as passionate and wonderful. She had no doubts at all that he still desired her as much as ever, even though her waist was beginning to thicken and her stomach was growing rounder.